


Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 21-30

by Severina



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: Community: hardtime100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-12
Updated: 2009-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 more drabbles written for the prompts at LJ's Hardtime100 Community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 21-30

**21.  
Title:** Cowboys  
**Prompt:** 21 - Boob Tube  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 10, 2000  
**Word Count:** 100

"These new westerns are bullshit," Chucky says during the credits for _Walker, Texas Ranger_.

"_The Rifleman_," Ryan announces. "Now that was a show. Anybody messes with that dude, he just loads up," Ryan mimes pulling back on a shotgun, "and fries his fat ass."

"No one ever died on _The Rifleman_," Beecher says. "Family programming."

"Fuck that. Chuck Connors got it done."

"I always preferred _Maverick_," Keller says lazily.

"Hmm," Beecher muses. "The traveling con artist who uses his charm to win the ladies, outwit the outlaws, relieve everyone of their money and evade the law? Gee, what a surprise."

 

**22.  
Title:** Dinner Conversation  
**Prompt:** 22 - Food Fight (confrontation in cafeteria)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 11, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"Charbroiled steak, medium rare, with just a little blood staining the plate," Beecher muses.

Keller grins, shark-like under fluorescent lights.

"Fresh Maine lobster dripping in butter," Hoyt puts in. He shrugs when the others gape at him. "What? I can't have refined tastes?"

"Will you all shut the fuck up?" Ryan grouses. "We're going to be eating chicken nuggets and fish sticks 'til we fucking die."

"Yeah."

Beecher peels his orange.

"A Big Mac!" Cyril crows.

"My mother's famous pineapple upside-down cake," Rebadow says.

"Fuck it," Ryan mutters. "Flapjacks with strawberries and cream."

Beecher nods. "Nice."

"Yeah. Fucking chicken nuggets."

 

**23.  
Title:** Lesson Learned  
**Prompt:** 23 - Black Out  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 11, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"I remember a bright light, and then my head exploded in pain." Toby shrugged. "Honestly, my first thought was… UFO."

Sister Pete nodded. "Or," she said, "maybe the bright light was the duty officer shining his flashlight into your pod?"

"I really don't remember."

"And perhaps the pain occurred when the officer felt the need to enter the pod when you refused to separate from Chris Keller?"

Toby studied his blanket.

"I'll talk to Tim."

Toby raised his eyes quickly. "Sister?"

"I can't keep losing my best assistant," she said. "And Tobias? A little discretion, in the future?"

"Yes, Sister."

 

**24.  
Title:** Alone  
**Prompt:** 24 - Cut! (continue a scene)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 11, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

_Keller, frightened, has told Toby that he died while in surgery and he fears going to Hell. Then the guard breaks them up. The continuation._

"I'm sorry."

"Sure."

"Chris."

Chris turns his face toward the wall.

"It's just… it's not going to do us any good if one or both of us gets thrown in the--"

"It's fine."

Toby glances warily through the glass before taking a few hesitant steps forward. He reaches out a hand.

"Don't," Chris says sharply. "Don't touch me."

"Chris." Soft. Broken.

Chris pushes away from the wall; gets to his bunk. Alone. The time for talk and touch is gone, and he doesn't know why. He only knows that if the situation were reversed, nothing could make him let go.

 

**25.  
Title:** Unfortunate Reality  
**Prompt:** 25 - Mr. Sandman  
**Timeframe:** Season Six  
**Written:** August 11, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Outside, someone is cutting the grass. The muted brrrr of the motor wakes him, but he keeps his eyes closed, wants to revel in the warmth of the body next to him. He imagines Chris sleeping with one arm thrown over his eyes. Toby thinks he'll sneak out of bed and make Chris pancakes. With blueberries. Chris mentioned once that he likes blueberries.

"Good morning."

Toby wakes. There is no lawnmower. No pancakes.

"Oh," he murmurs to Marion; hopes the confusion -- the disappointment -- isn't apparent on his face. "Good morning," he says.

The words taste like betrayal on his tongue.

 

**26.  
Title:** Playtime  
**Prompt:** 26 - "I would have thought that was fairly obvious"  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 11, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

The hacks are leaving us alone tonight, and Toby's taking his time, the bastard. He ghosts a breath along my shaft, and I clutch at the sheets.

He smiles up at me. "What do you want me to do?"

"Jesus Christ, Tobe," I say around a shaky laugh. "I would have thought that was fairly obvious."

Toby just blinks, serene. Knows he's got me, the fucker. "Tell me."

"Suck my cock," I say. "Wrap your lips around my dick."

He licks his lips, and by the time he obeys I'm thanking God for him. There ain't nothin' wrong with this.

 

**27.  
Title:** Oblivion  
**Prompt:** 27 - Under The Boardwalk (stairwell fic)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 12, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Oblivion, via drink, a hit, a cock.

He pushes the guy against the wall, some new guy, nameless, faceless, and devours his mouth even as nimble fingers work at his zipper. The new guy's been around, he knows the score. _Count_ in a few, no time for a fuck; just grasping pulling there there yes and he swallows Chris's name before it can burst from his throat.

Then the rush fades, the new boy drifts away, and he pulls himself together and makes it back with minutes to spare. Could've fucked after all. He eyes Healy and plans for tomorrow.

 

**28.  
Title:** Interaction  
**Prompt:** 28 - Lost and Found  
**Timeframe:** Season Five?  
**Written:** August 12, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"You see your kids, right, Beecher?"

"Holly comes to visit several times a week. Not the baby."

"That's good. I always thought it would be a bad thing for my boys to see me here. But now I know… that's how I lost them. They slipped away from me."

"Do we ever really have them, though? They become little people so fast. I try to stay connected, but--"

"You think you're losing your daughter, too."

"I think she'll be lost to me by the time I'm released, yes."

"I hope not, Beecher. I truly mean that."

Beecher swallowed. "Thanks, Vern."

 

**29.  
Title:** Bound  
**Prompt:** 29 - Bound  
**Timeframe:** Season Six  
**Written:** August 12, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

We are bound by love and death. By the secrets that we will never share. By tales spun not by campfire but in the dim light of Oz's night; by the comforting touch of a warm hand. Bound by pulverized oranges, malicious plans, united fronts, distrust and lust and battle scars.

We are bound by shanks and handcuffs and red silk scarves; by the crunching sound of breaking bones.

We are bound by stolen kisses, derisive glances, pain and blood and selfless sacrifice. Bound by bruises left by grasping fingers. Bound by the past.

The future is ours to make.

 

**30.  
Title:** Thwarted  
**Prompt:** 30 - Mr. Cookie Pants  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 12, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"Please, Ryan? Pleeeease?"

"You're not getting Mr. Cookie Pants and that's final! Fuck!"

As Cyril pouted and stomped off, Chris and Toby shared a look. "Do we want to ask?" Toby finally said.

"This fucking toy Aunt Brenda got him. He wants to bring it here."

"And?"

"Are you kidding me? You know how much shit I'll go through if Cyril starts carrying around a fucking doll?"

"Maybe it's a macho doll," Chris suggested.

"With a little buzzcut," Toby put in.

Chris nodded. "A butch doll."

"Yeah." Ryan threw up his hands. "You guys are a lot of help. Thanks."


End file.
